Wednesday, December 31, 2014

“I love you” are powerful words. So are “once upon a time” and “the end.” If you were to change just one word in those phrases, the meaning can shift dramatically. “I hate you” means something quite different than “I love you.”The meaning of a singular word can be very powerful. Take for example when I worked in banking. Our leaders would call us each day and we, as managers, would have to “commit” to a certain number of items sold that day—like checking accounts, savings accounts, loans, and so on. Seriously.I really struggled with this approach because I have always tried to be the type of person who does what he says he will do. The word “commitment” can be defined as “a promise to do or give something.” To me, I can commit to do things which I can control—like washing my hands after using the bathroom. But how could I honestly promise to open a checking account for someone I had yet to meet? I couldn’t. What I could do is promise to talk to everyone about checking account options and invite them to open an account. But could I force them to do it? No. Pressure them? Yes.At the end of the day, we would have to report on how we did. If I said we didn’t open the amount of checking accounts I “committed” to in the morning, my boss would then phrase it as, “But you committed to opening more! Why didn’t you?”See where this is headed? It became an ethical issue—all because of a singular word.Lately, I’ve been struggling with another word. This one? “Assignment.”As a college English teacher, I have a goal each semester: To give meaningful assignments which help the students learn and discover. I am not a fan of “busy work.” Because I’m the teacher, I have the authority to give assignments which the students need to fulfill to earn credit for the class.Some students complain about the work load. My response? “You signed up for this class, and these assignments are part of the class.”However, just because I have a position of authority does not give me the right to assign whatever I want. I can’t assign students to wash my car, or bring me lunch each day. In the end, each student has the right to choose which assignments to do. The tough part for a student is standing up and saying, “I’m not doing that assignment because I didn’t agree to do that. Just because you are the teacher, and have authority, doesn’t mean you have the right to make any assignments you want.”To be fair to teachers, many of them have good intentions, but overreach with their authority. I understand that. We’re all human. We make mistakes. Sometimes we can really want to do something good, and still make mistakes.For example, my students are required to write four major papers over the course of the semester. The hardest of the papers (in my opinion) is the argumentative paper because it requires at least three credible sources and needs to be at least three pages long.I could, instead, give them the assignment to write a 30 page paper with at least 50 credible sources. After all, more is better, right? But that wouldn’t be effective to freshmen taking their first college English class.My issue with the word “assignment” comes from one of its definitions: “a specified task or amount of work assigned or undertaken as if assigned by authority.”In other aspects of my life, I’ve been receiving more “assignments” from those in a position of authority. While I have no doubt that their intentions are good, the challenge comes from the fact that the nature of the context in which these assignments are given can be somewhat at odds with free will.Let me use a metaphor: I agree to work for a company where I am allowed to work from home. I agree to perform certain tasks within a certain time, yet I have the freedom of completing these tasks when and where I choose. Now, let’s say someone in authority somewhere up the chain of command decides something specific needs to be done at a certain time and at a certain place. Because they have authority, they give me an “assignment” to do it as they want it done.Perhaps the work is something I would be doing anyway, and most likely willingly, because I agreed to work for that company—with the understanding the job let me choose. If that choice is taken away, then part of the fundamental aspect of the job has changed.Maybe it is human nature, or maybe it is just me, but being forced to do something, even if that something is good, isn’t nearly as rewarding as deciding as an individual to perform an action on their own because it is the right thing to do.I’m sure in a few years I’ll find another word with which I’ll take an issue. Perhaps it is an occupational hazard of being a writer and an English teacher.

Friday, December 26, 2014

I’ve come to something of a dilemma when it comes to my
writing. I’m keenly aware of my intended audience with each work I compose. In
doing so, I’ve come to realize that my audience is different for each book. The
problem this creates is that not everyone who reads one of my books may enjoy
all of them.

Let me explain.

I am of the firm belief that if a writer is bored when they
are writing, the work will be boring to read. At different points in my life,
what interests me (as a writer) changes. For better or worse, I don’t believe I
could churn out book after book that would fit in my Bariwon series. That’s one
reason I wrote The Mirror of the Soul
between books two and three of that series. At the time, I was more interested
in that story than any others.

And then I went down a completely different path and wrote
two books in first person. These books (Wall
of Faith and Bring Down the Rain)
were more simplistic in approach, both in the language used as well as the
method in storytelling.

Whereas my other books used third person, and the stories
unfolded through various points of view, my last two were more linear in nature—things
happened in a specific order as told by one character.

This is perhaps over generalizing, but reading a book with
multiple characters and told from more than one point of view requires more
from the reader. They actually have to pay attention.

In a recent review of one of my books, the reader wrote, “I
could not wrap my mind around what was happening.” Keep in mind that a different
review of the same book stated, “This is a great allegorical tale of depth and
a critical understanding of the human condition that transcends time and space.”

I could become discouraged and elect to keep my writing more
simplistic so that I don’t confuse people who aren’t willing to invest the time
or energy in understanding what is going on. This is what I’m struggling with
at the moment. One of the books I’m working on uses more complex language and
concepts. While I’m writing, a little voice inside my head keeps telling me, “The
people who liked Wall of Faith and Bring Down the Rain won’t get this.”

And then I remind myself, “I’m not writing it for them. I’m
writing it for the people who enjoy this
kind of story.”

Saturday, December 6, 2014

One of my heroes is Martin Luther King, Jr. Here is a person
who saw an injustice, and acted. It wasn’t easy for him or his family, and in
the end he lost his life for what he believed in. I think one of the best ways
to sum up what he fought for is reflected in this quote from his famous, “I
have a dream” speech:

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day
live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but
by the content of their character.”

Though much has changed since he spoke those words, we, in
America, are not living in that nation—and it isn’t only one group’s fault.

During recent events, I’ve been dismayed time and time again
when news reports open with “a person with a certain colored skin did this to a
person with different colored skin.” To me, that’s in direct conflict to what
Martin Luther King, Jr. wanted. By including race as part of the act, I believe
this actually propagates racism.

To be clear, I think there is a difference between being
proud of one’s culture and showing honor to one’s ancestors, and racism.

Here’s a definition of racism that helps prove this point
(notice the part I put in italics): “Racism: the belief that all members of
each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race,
especially so as to distinguish it as
inferior or superior to another race or races.”

I’ve had the chance to meet and work with people from all
sorts of different cultural backgrounds and beliefs, including those who are
similar to my own. Without question, many of the people I’ve met were awesome.
They were good people who acted nicely towards others. And then, there were
those who were jerks. Interestingly enough, I’ve never found the jerks to be
isolated to a certain race or belief system.

Yet there are those who identify themselves as members of a
certain race who feel like they are being treated unjustly, and often for good
reason.

However, what would Martin Luther King, Jr. say to those who
react to perceived injustice with violence and hatred? What does it say about a
person’s character when they burn down businesses because they feel their race
has been slighted? What does it say about a person who doesn’t promote an
individual because of the color of their skin?

Friday, November 14, 2014

Earlier this autumn, I was invited to speak at a middle
school in Raleigh as a visiting author. These types of visits are a lot of fun,
and inspirational. I find that I’m more motivated to work on my own books after
helping students get excited about writing.

I recently received a package in the mail which was filled
full of thank you letters from the students. It was a sweet gesture from the
teacher, and the students.

Each of the letters thanked me for coming to the school, and
then shared at least one thing they liked about the presentation. The letters
were very sweet and flattering. Of course, when dealing with middle school
students, you can never be sure what they will write.

Here are some of the parts that stood out to me from the
letters:

“Thank you for telling us how to make a story and how to
make people read it.”

“Your advice helped me a lot when I was revising my paper.
(I think I made it 50% better.)”

“I used to hate reading and writing, but you helped me see
reading and writing is fun.”

“That was my first time meeting an author. You are the best
and funniest author I have ever met. Well, it is more like the only author I
have ever met.”

“Can you put me in your next book? Make me a bad person
though.”

“You gave me the inspiration to write a book. It will be
about a girl named Elizabeth and how she started in middle school.”

“My dream is to become a famous writer. Maybe we can even
write a book together.”

Thursday, October 16, 2014

I’m delighted to announce that my latest book, Bring Down the Rain, is part of a blog
tour!

What is this book about? Here’s a short description:

“Starting at a new high school is hard, especially as a
senior. At age 17, Derek moves with his family from North Carolina to Utah.
Derek learns about the unwritten laws of dating in Utah, and that his mom and
dad have a history at his new school—a history that threatens his future.

Set in 1986, Bring
Down The Rain is a story of loss, grief, redemption, hope, and making life
altering choices.”

Here are some of the reviews that have already come in:

“A very refreshing read with the plot being centered around
a subject that is clearly important to this writer. Readers will appreciate the diversity in the
experiences of each character while difficult decisions are presented in how to
deal with them. Derek and Tiffany not
only support each other but are able to impart wisdom and insight while
demonstrating key ideas like sacrifice and integrity to work through choices
that many will be able to relate to.

Morgan has successfully completed another moving, compelling
and satisfying novel by advocating on topics that don’t come across as overly
persuading or lecturing. Bring Down the
Rain is an unforgettable and extraordinary book that is highly recommended
for readers of all ages. If this is your
first by Morgan, you will not be let down or disheartened when finished. A clever and witty story that will leave you
wishing for more!” –The Book Stalker.com

“Morgan writes with an easygoing manner that is obviously
influenced by his keen sense of time gained from being a television director.
Couple that trait with a natural gift for communication of difficult moral
issues, blend with a fine sense of comedy, and a (probable) firsthand
experience at dealing with the atmosphere and philosophy of Utah and the result
is a well written, entertaining, and uplifting book.” –Grady Harp, top 100
reviewer for Amazon.com

As part of the blog tour, I’m giving away two copies of my
first book, The Hidden Sun. To enter,
simply follow the directions below. And good luck!

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

There is a terrible plague which infects nearly every area
of America. It can strike at any time, usually without warning. Immediate
symptoms include increased blood pressure, anxiety, and on occasion, even nausea.
The effects are immediate, and the lingering complications can last for years.

In a recent study, it was found that this pestilence can
inflict more than 226 million people in America, usually those ages 16 and
older.

The first signs of this infliction are flashing red and blue
lights, generally noticed in the rearview mirror of a moving vehicle. This is followed
by the person’s eyes being drawn to an instrument on their dashboard which indicates
a number. Almost always, the person immediately begins to utter words of a
crass nature.

While several options have been proposed to prevent such a
tragedy, it is not enough. It is at this point that the United States
government must come to the aid of its citizens. With all the advances in
modern technology, there is certainly an effective preventative method which
should be available to all those at risk, regardless of income level, age, or
any other factor which can be used to classify people. An archaic term for such
a device is “radar detector,” though there is surely a more sophisticated term.
Perhaps we can draw upon Latin and call it, “Periculum^2.”

Opponents may argue that perhaps people should merely keep
the speed of their vehicles below a certain level. This is unrealistic--no,
this is a simpleminded approach. Everyone speeds.

It is clear that a device is needed to prevent unwanted
tickets and possible long-lasting effects like higher insurance rates and even
jail time.

The time to act is now. Contact your congressperson to have
them put this into law. If enough of the population push for such a measure,
the opponents’ arguments will soon become irrelevant, perhaps even mocked.

While speaking with the government official, ask that an addendum
be added to allow free birth control to all high school students.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

To me, some of the most ignorant, and potentially harmful,
words are when one person says to another, “You shouldn’t feel that way.”

Oh, I believe the intentions may be pure, or even innocent,
when someone says that. For example, a father may see that his daughter is
throwing a temper tantrum. When he gets her to tell him what is the matter, it
turns out that her favorite breakfast cereal is no longer being produced.

To the father, breakfast cereal may seem like a trivial
matter—certainly nothing worth getting upset about. So, in trying to help his
daughter, he says, “I’m sorry they are no longer making the cereal. But that’s
not worth getting upset. You shouldn’t feel that way.”

You may be thinking, “I’m with the father on this one. He
needs to teach his daughter not to throw a tantrum.”

If that’s your thought process, I don’t disagree. Tantrums
aren’t good. But that’s not the point. You see, I categorize feelings and
actions as two separate things—though they can be related.

In the case with the cereal, the father wants to teach his
daughter not to throw tantrums. Logically, her tantrum is caused by her
emotional reaction to something. Therefore, if he can change how she feels,
then she won’t throw the tantrum.

That’s not a bad idea. However, it’s been my experience that
humans don’t work that way. Based on our belief systems, our life events, our
upbringing, and various other factors, we will have emotional reactions to
things, and not always understand why.

Personally, I get rather upset when someone doubts my
sincerity. I had a boss who questioned everything I did—and it nearly drove me
nuts. However, just because I get upset doesn’t mean I then have a valid reason
to throw a tantrum.

This is one of my favorite sayings: I can’t control how I
will emotionally react to something, but I can control how I act on those
feelings.

Based on this concept, when you tell someone, “You shouldn’t
feel that way” what you are really doing is questioning him or her as a person
and who he or she is. In other words, who are you to tell someone else how he
or she should feel? You aren’t them. You haven’t experienced what they have
experienced. How can you know what makes them tick when they may not be sure
themselves?

Back to the story of the father and the daughter, a better
way for the father to react is to address the daughter’s actions as being inappropriate.
He should help teach her that she chooses how she acts—and that it is possible
to not act on your feelings.

In addition, he can talk with her about why she felt that
way about the cereal, without being judgmental about her feelings. He can work
with her to understand her feelings so she can mature. In time, she may grow to
understand what makes her feel certain ways, and what she can do to address her
feelings on her terms.

Next time you feel like telling someone, “You shouldn’t feel
that way,” think to yourself, “Why do I feel that he or she shouldn’t feel that
way?”

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Throughout my life, I’ve had this drive, this need, for things to be fair. I can’t say why. Although part of me thinks that it comes from growing up in Utah. Among Latter-day Saints, I believe there can be a prevailing feeling of being the victim. After all, people of the LDS faith (the Mormons) had to leave what was then the United States of America to find religious freedom, and I believe some of that bitterness has been passed down through the generations. For example, I’ve noticed as a fan of BYU’s football team there is a sense of trying to be taken seriously on the national stage—and being outraged when that isn’t the case.Regardless of the reasons for my feelings that things need to be fair, I also find that I’m not afraid to stand up for things that I believe to be right. The challenge with that, as I’ve grown to understand, is that I’m an extremely sensitive person. Generally, I’ve learned that I don’t have a problem when people disagree with my opinions. After all, I do believe everyone has a right to choose. What I really struggle with is when I feel like me as a person, my character and integrity, are being attacked because I don’t agree with someone.A few years ago, I attended the LDStorymakers conference in Provo. I was a newly published author. Because I had published through a “traditional” publisher, I was allowed to join the LDStorymakers as a member, and therefore get a discount to this awesome conference which I had heard so many good things about.And it was amazing. I met a lot of really nice people. One of these wonderful authors was serving on the Board of Directors for LDStorymakers. After we chatted for a bit, she asked if I’d like to become involved. The idea was rather exciting.Time passed and I learned that there was an “At-Large” position opening soon. This person would be voted in by the membership, and their primary responsibility was to represent the membership and bring issues or concerns to the board.At first, everything was going great. I contributed by helping with the scholarship fund to help people attend the conference. I attended the monthly meetings via phone and voted on things that needed to be voted upon.Not long after, I had some serious issues with my publisher. Suffice it to say, I was able to get my rights back to the two books they published. I looked at different options, and elected to pursue this new avenue opening to authors commonly referred to as “indie publishing.” I would bypass the traditional publisher and work directly with the printer and distributor. I got to choose my own covers. I was able to hire my own editor. My old publisher required that I do a lot of promotion, so I was already doing that.After “going indie,” I discovered two things. First, I loved the creative freedom AND I was making more money. Second, there were certain traditionally published authors who looked down their nose at indie publishing.Now it wasn’t everyone, or even close to the majority. But there were a number of people who openly criticized indies as inferior. In addition, (and I think this ties back to the whole “victim mentality” of a lot of LDS folks) several indie authors were quite offended.In my ignorance, I didn’t realize that when I first joined LDStorymakers that indie authors were not allowed to join. After all, my first book was traditionally published, so I hadn’t given it a second thought. When I asked about indies joining, three main reasons from several members of the LDStorymakers came up. First, LDStorymakers is a guild for traditionally published authors. That’s what they do. Second, there really isn’t a gatekeeper on indie work to ensure its quality. Third, LDStorymakers couldn’t really handle taking on a whole lot of new members without more people helping out (commonly referred to as “infrastructure”).All these answers made sense to me. After all, LDStorymakers had been around for a long time and it was working.However, now that I was aware of these two different types of authors (traditional and indie), I became more aware of LDStorymakers members asking the same questions. After all, the publishing world was changing dramatically. Indie publishing was taking off (as I experienced firsthand).Over time, I also realized I had an ethical dilemma. I was voted by the membership to represent them, yet if LDStorymakers was truly only for traditionally published authors, I didn’t really represent them. I had switched to the indie path. I carefully considered my options, and in doing so, re-read my responsibilities. I even mentioned to the Board of Directors that since I was no longer affiliated with traditional publishing that perhaps I should resign. I was encouraged to stay. I even stayed on for an additional year. During the next few months, it occurred to me that there was enough concern among the members of the LDStorymakers around membership requirements that it was my responsibility to bring it to the attention of the board. When I did so, I was a bit shocked to hear that it was something brought up often, every year or so. Yet, as far as I could tell, the members hadn’t been allowed to vote on possible changes—for various reasons, some of them logical and noble.I urged the board to at least ask the members if they wanted to look at different membership options. Specifically, put it to a vote. I’ll be honest here when I say I had to really push to get a vote to happen. But it did.The results? By an overwhelming margin, the members who voted said they wanted to look at different options.At this point, the BOD decided to form a committee to look at various options. I declined to participate for two main reasons. First, I will openly admit I thought that indie authors should be allowed to join. I didn’t want it to come across that I was trying to force my personal opinion into the mix. Second, I was finishing my Master’s degree at the time and was swamped with school work.The committee that was formed worked their tails off, looking at different options. The most controversial of the options was around indie authors. Some were convinced it would never pass. At the very least, I wanted the members to have the option to vote on it.Several months passed while it was debated. I’ll state that one reason it needed to be pushed to the back burner for a bit was because of the annual conference which took place in April. That event is by far the biggest event in which the LDStorymakers are involved—and a valid reason for a delay.With that completed, I once again began to push for a vote. I was met with a lot of resistance. And some of it started to turn personal. One person even said I had threatened to quit if I didn’t get my way—that was based on my comment that perhaps I should resign if I didn’t truly represent the members. I’ll openly confess that the sensitive part of me started to get outraged. I was trying to do my job, and yet somehow my motives and character were being called into question.I honestly thought about quitting because the stress was starting to impact other parts of my life—stress caused from a volunteer position in which I was trying to do what I had been voted in to do.But the other part of me, the fighter, hung on. As of this moment, the LDStorymakers members are voting on three possible options for opening up more membership, including allowing indie authors.During this process, I have received emails from five different people accusing me of various things (abusing power, falsifying information, and trying to advance my personal agenda) and attacking my character—all because I pushed for the vote to happen.The one thing that I reminded all of them is that I gain nothing, personally, from the results of the vote either way, aside from knowing that I did what I was elected to do.And now the good news. For every bad email, I received at least two positive emails thanking me for making a stand and speaking out for the membership. One person even admitted that they wanted to speak up, but felt like if they did they would receive the same treatment I did from the few who were brash enough to make accusations.In the end, have I taken offense when people have disagreed with me? I’d like to believe that wasn’t the case at first, but I will admit that once the comments became personal, that clouded my reaction when people were offering different opinions. I wish I had been better than that. At the same time, I honestly believe I’ve tried to do what I thought was right.At the very least, the members have been allowed to vote on choices for changing membership options—options which I feel will only make LDStorymakers stronger and better, and able to serve a larger group of people. Chances are good that at least one of the proposed options will pass, if not more. Even if none pass, at least the members were the ones to make the choice—the people I was voted in to represent. UPDATE: all three options presented to the members passed.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Cruise control is a blessing and a curse. Whenever I have to travel any length, I use cruise control, mainly to ensure that I don’t go too fast—getting speeding tickets stinks and can be pricey.All too often, the following situation happens: I’m driving down the road, fat, dumb and happy. Ahead of me, in my lane, is a car which is going slower than I am. As I get closer, I check the passing lane, and if it is clear, I’ll go around the person. No big deal, right?A little while later, the person I passed is coming up on my tail. Many times they’ll pass me, and before you know it, I’m creeping up on them again.The whole time, my speed hasn’t changed. And this drives me nuts.I was thinking about this and how it compares to life. Many times I feel like I’m just chugging along. I’m the kind of person to plans things out and gets after them, pacing myself. Then BOOM! Someone will call me or email or something and tell me they needs help right then.Of course, I’ll do what I can to help them. And in doing so, I’ll figure out what caused the urgent matter. Often, the reason for the problem is due to poor planning, or someone putting something off until the last minute. In a sense, I’m the one keeping my speed steady, and they are the ones changing speeds. Sometimes they get in my way, and I have to slow down, or sometimes they go zipping by me, sometimes recklessly.I’m pretty chill with the “live and let live” attitude, or to be clearer, that everyone has a right to choose.However, as my college English students are finding out, when I say an assignment is due, it is due. It’s been interesting how many students have Internet or computer problems 30 minutes before an assignment is due.So yes, I tell me students, I believe you when you say your computer blew up or the Internet suddenly disappeared. I also believe I gave you a week to do the assignment which could have been done before the last minute.“But! But! But!” they say.I respond, “My speed hasn’t changed. I’m on cruise control.”

Thursday, August 14, 2014

How many times have you heard the phrase, “It’s our policy”?
From personal experience, it seems the larger a company becomes, the more it
tends to initiate policies in how to deal with certain situations.

Here are some examples:

“Our policy is to only give store credit for returns.”

“Our policy is that you must have two forms of ID before I
can help you.”

“Our policy is that if you want to upgrade your phone, you
have to pay a processing fee.”

Here’s the thing. I’ve been in rooms where policies have
been decided. Sometimes, they are logical, and it seems like a good rule to
follow. Sometimes, no one knows for sure how to handle a problem, so they come
up with something that they hope will work. And sometimes, the “policy” is put
into place strictly for the betterment of the company—not the public.

Case in point: I have a business account for my authoring
revenues and expenses. I received a letter from my bank recently that they were
“upgrading their policies.” (Notice how they chose the word “upgrade”? Makes it
sound like an improvement, right?)

Basically, the bank used to process deposits starting with
the largest amounts first. The “upgrade” is that they were now going to process
the deposits in chronological order. This may not seem like a big deal, so let
me clarify.

When I opened the account, one of the benefits they sold me
on was that they process the largest deposits first. That way, if I have
expenses leaving about the same time, I’ll be covered.

Now, by doing the deposits in chronological order, those
businesses which live on the hairy edge of money coming in and out are going to
start to get hit with all sorts of fees.

The kicker? The letter included a section in big bold
letters which read, “How this benefits you!” What was the first of these
so-called benefits? To paraphrase, “This change will help you stay focused on
the timing of your transactions as to avoid fees.”

How is that a benefit? When I think of a benefit, I think of
something that works in my favor.

I happened to be in that bank a few days later to make a
deposit. At the teller line, I asked about this new deposit policy change. How
did the teller respond?

Monday, July 28, 2014

One thing the general public doesn’t understand is that most
successful authors spend a lot of time on promotion and marketing. It doesn’t
matter if you are published through a traditional publishing house, or you have
taken the indie route. Unless people know about your work, they can’t buy it.

To that end, I do a lot of research on different marketing methods
and I’ve joined a number of online groups that share ideas and such with each
other. In the process, I note how other authors promote their work.

Recently, an author I’d never heard of posted about their
book. The cover was very sexually suggestive, and the description said, (and I’m
paraphrasing here) “Filled with graphic sex and violence, this book is not for
those who are easily offended.”

I paused at that statement, and thought about what it
implies. In a sense, the phrase “someone who is easily offended” is a bit of an
oxymoron. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word offend is defined in the following ways:
“To transgress the moral or divine law” and “To cause difficulty, discomfort,
or injury” and “To cause to feel vexation or resentment usually by violation of
what is proper or fitting” and even “To cause pain to.”

If you look at all those definitions, a common theme is that
a type of action creates something considered offensive. In the case of the book
noted above, the author chose to create subject matter which many people would
consider is not “proper or fitting.”

All of this begs the question, “Where is the line between offensive
and not offensive?” To include the idea that people can be “easily” offended
implies that the line may be different for each person. In other words, the
phrase suggests it is the nature of each person who determines what is
offensive and what is not.

For example, one person may find it offensive if the “F”
word is used in a movie. Someone else might care less if the “F” word is used.
Does that mean the person who doesn’t want to hear the “F” word is “easily
offended?” That seems to be the implication.

But if you look again at the definition, offense is tied to more of a general
concept of what is okay, and what isn’t okay. Society, as a whole, has certain
things it will put up with and certain things it won’t.

Can you imagine someone who robbed a bank using this as a
defense: “Your Honor, I see nothing wrong with putting money from a teller’s
drawer into my bag. I even told them ahead of time I was going to do it. The
bank is being too easily offended by my actions.”

That concept seems ridiculous, no? Is it any more ridiculous for an author then to write something that could cross a generally accepted line of what is offensive and then blaming it on the reader if they don’t like it because the reader is too “easily offended?”

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

My wife and three oldest daughters are at Girl’s camp for
the week, roughly 90 minutes away. My youngest daughter, who is 11, is hanging
out with her best friend / cousin for part of the week. So, for a time, I’m
living the life of a bachelor.

On the way home from dropping off my youngest daughter, I
decided to pick up a few groceries from Target. You know, the basics: Milk,
cereal, TV dinners, and the makings for Root Beer floats.

I got to the check-out line with my items, and the
conversation with the cashier went something like this:

“Do you have our Target card?” asked the cashier.

“My wife may have one, but I don’t,” I said. “She’s out of
town so I’m just picking up a few things.”

“Oh! Let me tell you about it. You can save 5% on … yadda,
yadda, yadda.”

“That’s nice, but I rarely do the shopping. That’s something
my wife likes to do. And I really don’t need more plastic in my wallet.”

“But, you could be saving on these purchases right now!”

In total, I had about $15 worth of items. That could have
saved me 75 cents. “I appreciate it,” I said, “but like I told you, I just don’t
do enough shopping for it to be worth my while.”

The cashier gives me a blank stare. “I don’t understand,” he
said. “Won’t you be doing more shopping now that your wife has left you?”

Quickly thinking back over the conversation, I tried to
figure out what would have given him the impression that my wife left me.
Nothing came to mind.

“Uh, my wife didn’t leave me. She’s just out of town for the
week.”

“Out of town without
you, right?” the cashier clarified.

“Yes. That doesn’t mean she left me.”

“It’s okay. Really,” the cashier said, his facial features
softening. “My wife left me three years ago, and I kept telling myself it was
only for a week. You don’t have to be embarrassed by it.”

I glanced around, trying to see if anyone else was hearing
this conversation. No one was.

Monday, July 14, 2014

I have a new appreciation for the saying, “The grass is
always greener on the other side.”

Yes, I understand the phrase is a metaphor
for not appreciating what you have and always thinking that someone else has it
better.

But recently, I’ve had an experience where in fact the grass
has been greener on the other side.

Growing up in Utah, which is considered a desert, we had to
water our lawn or it would die. My mom had a cool timer that she would set to
remind her to move the hose which was watering the lawn. The timer looked
something like this:

I always thought the middle part of the timer looked like a
spaceship, but then again those were the days when Star Wars had just come out.

When my wife and I moved to Idaho, the house we bought didn’t
have a lawn—just dirt and weeds. (It was also in a desert type environment.) I
tilled the lawn using only a shovel and planted grass seed. A lot of watering
and time later, we had a really nice lawn.

On a side note, last year we visited Idaho and drove by our
old house. The person that owns it now stopped watering the lawn, it is back to
weeds and dirt. It broke my heart.

North Carolina has its own unique issues with lawns.
Generally, our winters are very mild and the summers can be brutal.

Our house in North Carolina had a lawn, but there were
patches where it was just dirt, or what I thought was dirt. I’d grown a lawn
before, so I figured, “Heck, I can do this.”

I tilled the yard, planted grass, watered … and nothing. If
anything, things got worse. I was baffled.

Turns out our lawn was mostly clay, and not dirt. Also, I
planted fescue grass, a type I used before, and it doesn’t like the heat very
much. It fact, it dies out pretty quickly during the summer unless you water it
all the time, especially in NC.

I ended up tearing up the front yard, adding topsoil, and
put in a different kind of grass: zoysia. It was a grass type I’d never heard
of before.

Basically, the grass withstands the summers really well and
requires very little watering on my part. Most of the time, the regular
rainstorms we get do the trick.

There is one aspect of zoysia grass I’d not experienced
before. It goes dormant, or “to sleep” in the winter. Meaning, it turns a shade
of tan. It doesn’t look bad, just different.

And that brings me back to the grass is always greener. You
see, my next-door neighbor has fescue grass in his front yard. During the
winter, when my lawn is tan, his is bright green. He’s even mowed it on
Christmas Eve.

Yet when summer rolls around, his lawn dies. Like dead,
kaput, gone. It turns to dust. (It doesn’t help that he won’t water it.) Then
each autumn, he reseeds and starts all over again.

So, in the hottest months of the year, my lawn is rockin’.
It’s green, thick and beautiful.

In the end, depending on the season, the grass is truly
greener on the other side.

Friday, July 11, 2014

I’m sure this blog is going to ruffle some feathers. It won’t
be the first time, nor the last. But those that have the stomach to read all
the way to the end of this blog may actually forgive me. We’ll see.

Here it goes. In general, I’m not a big fan of
homeschooling. Right now, I’m sure several peoples’ blood pressures just rose.
Before you start to type a reply on all the values of homeschooling or the
negative aspects of public schools, hear me out.

Although I was born in Wyoming, I grew up in Utah. My family
moved to Orem when I was six. I lived in Utah until I was nineteen. I attended
public school.

After graduating from BYU (which is in Utah), I started my
TV production career. I worked my way up until I got a job in the NYC market.
We lived in Connecticut.

Within a very short period of time, I realized that I had to
work with people from all sorts of backgrounds and belief systems. It was a
struggle. My experience with such a diverse cultural base was limited, and it
caused a lot of problems.

What does this have to do with homeschooling?

It is my opinion that school experiences consist of more
than academic learning. There is also social education involved.

While studying at BYU to become a TV director, we had a
producer who couldn’t get along with anyone. One day, this producer and fellow
director of mine got into an argument. What the disagreement was about isn’t
important. What I do remember vividly is something the director told the
producer. He said, “You know what your problem is? Because you were
homeschooled, you missed out on a four year program that teaches you social
skills. It’s called high school!”

“But! But! But!” People maybe saying right now. “YOU went to
public school and still you had problems when you moved to the east coast.”

My response: Yup. You see, where I grew up in Utah, there
was a very dominant culture influenced by my religion. That’s not unique to
Utah. It’s true of many places over the world. Because I associated with only
people who generally shared my same beliefs, I never learned how to deal (and
work) with people who had radically different lifestyles.

Please understand, I’m not saying that public schools are
perfect. In some ways, homeschooling has several advantages. In theory,
homeschool students get better one-on-one attention. They are able to work at a
pace that is suited for them—one not dictated by the whole class. There is a
lot more flexibility in schedules for things like doctor appointments or field
trips. Like I stated, good stuff.

My biggest concern for homeschooling is those parents who
elect to keep their children home to protect them from the evils of the world. I
think that’s great in theory but doesn’t work in practice.

I love my four daughters, and I do all I can to keep them
safe. I never would intentionally harm them. At the same time, I understand
that there is only so much I, as a parent, can do to teach them. There is no
substitute for experience and learning from those experiences.

Yes, high school can be a rough place. There is a lot of bad
language. There are drugs. There are teachers who don’t care. There are students
that don’t care. In a lot of ways, it’s like the world in general. And that’s
my point.

Sooner or later, children grow up and have to move on. Much
of the time, they go out into the world for any number of reasons. If a person
has never had any exposure to the “evil” elements of the world, it has been my
observation that these folks missed out on gaining coping skills and they are
then given a crash course whether they want it or not.

Warning: religious belief paragraph ahead!

I believe that our Heavenly Father sent us to Earth to get
experiences because that was really the only way we could progress as
individuals. He knew it would be hard. He knew there were bad things that could
happen. But He also sent us help, and He is there for us. We can talk to Him at
any time.

For those who choose to homeschool your children: that’s
your choice. Just as it is my choice to send my kids to public school.

Still, I implore homeschool parents: please include social
interaction as part of the curriculum, especially with those individuals who
may be different than you. NOTE: these are my opinions, and you are free to disagree. However, to keep trolls off my blog, I monitor all comments before they show up below. Thanks!

Sunday, June 29, 2014

One of my daughters “graduated” from eight grade this year.
It’s considered a graduation because she’ll be starting high school in the
fall. This was the third time we’ve had a daughter go through these graduation proceedings.
It’s held in the gym at the first part of June—a gym that is like five-hundred
years old with air conditioning that is about as effective as thinking cool
thoughts.

Each year, the chorus sings. And each year, they sing the same
song—one that drives me nuts. It’s called “Seasons of Love” from a musical
called Rent. The opening lyric starts
out as, “Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes.” (I guess that’s
appropriate because that’s how long the graduation ceremony seems to last.)

That number, 525, 600, is the number of minutes in a year.
Well, a standard year, not a leap year. Hmmm. Now that I’m thinking about it,
maybe during a leap year, they won’t sing that song. Oh, who am I kidding? Of
course they will.

Anyway, it’s a cliché that everyone is given the same amount
of time each day, or each year. How we choose to spend it is up to us. Kind of.

Let me elaborate.

Last year, I was able to help our church with supplying food
for those in need. It’s actually a really neat program. For those in the LDS
faith, there are food warehouses filled with various types of food. If a family
is in need—health issues, job loss, things like that—they can get food from the
church twice a month.

It’s a little more involved than that, and needs some
clarification to make my point. In order for someone to get food, it needs to
be approved by the congregational leader (known as a Bishop) and the leader of
the woman’s organization (called the Relief Society President). The Relief
Society President works with the family to find their needs and then orders the
food ahead of time.

When the food arrives at the church twice a month, the people
from the warehouse only bring what has been ordered for the various families.
There aren’t any extras.

One time I was helping a lady pick up her order. She was one
of the first people to come in that morning. I had a sheet of what had been
ordered for her. As we filled her order, she kept saying things like, “I want two
of these instead of one” or “My kids really like those. Give me a few more.”

I kindly, as I could, told her we could only give her what
was on the order sheet. If she needed more for her next order, the time to
decide that was when she next met with her Relief Society President.

At one point, she became frustrated with me and said, “I don’t
understand why I can’t have more. There is plenty here.”

I stopped, looked directly into her eyes, and as nicely as I
could explained, “There isn’t any extra. They only deliver what is on the order
sheets. If I give you extra, then I’m taking away from someone else who ordered
it, and therefore needs it.”

It took her a moment to process this concept. Here she was,
surrounded by food, yet she struggled with the idea that she couldn’t take all
she wanted; the rest of it belonged to someone else.

What does this have to do with the “time” story earlier in
the blog? It’s this: I have had to attend a lot of meetings for various reasons
during my life. Each of them usually has a start and end time. Sometimes the
person in charge of the meeting decides they are going to use more time than
scheduled—to them, it’s important, and there is plenty of time left in the day.

But, you see, that time doesn’t belong to them. Sometimes
the meetings are back-to-back. So if one presenter goes long, they are taking
time away from the next presenter, a presenter who was told they were given a
certain amount of time, but now won’t have it because someone else took it.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

I have this reoccurring dream (nightmare?) where I’m at a
school and I’m close to graduating. And then I remember: I have one more class
I need to pass in order to be truly finished. In a panic, I realize I haven’t
been to this class all semester. I’m not sure where it meets or when. I think
that maybe, just maybe, if I take the final and do well on it, I can pass the
class.

For giggles, I looked up possible meanings of this dream.
The results varied from “The dream often occurs in approximation with having
forgotten or being concerned about forgetting to do something important in
waking life” to “The dream is a reminder not to miss an opportunity or take a
more active role in one's destiny” and even, “A change involving the end of
something is imminent and there is low confidence about the future.”

As I thought about it some more, my dreams could mean any of
those things. Or perhaps, it is based on reality.

In high school, I was less than a stellar student. I failed
some classes—not from being smart enough—but rather from just not attending
class. (Those were different days back then.) I had to take several “study-at-home”
courses in order to graduate.

In college, I walked through the graduation ceremonies before
I actually had finished my degree. True story! You see, I was allowed to do
that if the only class I had left was my internship. So, even though I put on
my cap and gown in April, I didn’t finish my degree until August.

And now, there is my Master’s degree. I’m done. I’ve earned
it. Nothing else has to be completed for me to receive my degree. But wait. As
I started looking for possible teaching positions, many of the colleges require
me to have 18 credit hours in English. My degree is in Creative Writing. I
realized as I finished my MFA I was one class short of having 18 credit hours
with the letters ENG before it.

And so, here I am in June 2014 taking one last English
class, even though I’m officially done with my degree.

Maybe it’s just me, but I think my real life experiences
could have more to do with my reoccurring dreams than my mind trying to remind
me to pay the electric bill.